Tag Archives: female body
On feeling it: the thin wall between cunt and ass
“Oh holy fuck – I can feel that with my dick.” At University, aged 20, I discovered a very fun thing. Having been reasonably ignorant about my own anatomy, one day I made a conscious effort to fill myself with things. In doing so I discovered just how thin the wall between cunt and ass was.
On cognitive dissonance, hypocrisy and tits
There are few things that make me want to rub one out more than a seriously lovely pair of tits. Firm, perky tits trapped in something really tight – a corset, a low-cut t-shirt, or occasionally just squished together with a belt or a length of rope.
I was casually perusing the internet recently when I came across a fantastic example of this – a woman with beautiful, hard tits wearing a top stretched tightly over them, with a hand-sized peephole in the middle displaying cleavage, and a rise in the top beneath so you could see the curve of the underside of them. Stunning.
Naturally, I immediately pulled down my jeans and rubbed quick one out – imagining a guy pushing the end of his dick against her chest and wanking until he spurted thick spunk through the hole in her top.
Hypocrisy and self-disgust
Immediately afterwards I felt pathetic and amoral. Not for wanking – if I felt bad for wanking I’d have lost the will to live before I hit my fourteenth birthday. No, I felt pathetic because the picture was:
a) not of a real woman, but of a video game character
b) being used to illustrate an article about the objectification of women in video games.
Not only did I crack one off to an article that explicitly frowned upon crack-offable video game characters, but I subsequently read the article and agreed with it.
Some video game design is shockingly objectifying, and borderline offensive. The women are usually inhumanly pert-breasted, unnaturally slim waisted and wearing clothes that are deeply impractical for fighting. Even the moves seem designed to draw attention to whichever feminine features are expected to most excite teenaged boys. Those who learn the right Dead or Alive moves will be rewarded with a flash of Kasumi’s panties, or a hypersexual throw in which she leaps, cunt-first, at her opponent’s face, squeezing her muscular thighs around their cheeks before hurling them to the ground.
On an intellectual level it disgusts me. But on the very basic, primal level at which I operate when I’m at home in my knickers, it makes me wet. Playing video games against women with massive, hard, well-framed tits leaves me panting and desperate to be touched. I see Ayane’s tits jiggling and I want boys to touch mine. I see her being hurled to the ground and I want to be hurled to the ground. I imagine that after a fight her opponent takes her into the woods, and she stares in awe at him with her impossibly-wide manga eyes as he triumphantly seals his victory by fucking her in the mouth.
Just show me your tits
It works no matter which role I’m in. Whether I’m playing as a male character or a female one. Playing Xbox with a boy today, in between bouts of screaming “die, DIE, eat my fucking AXE, you cuntbag” I was imagining my male character pinning his girl to the floor, and taking her with quick, rough, angry thrusts. Ripping her clinging top from her jiggling tits and spraying jizz all over them.
But although I’ll revel in it at the time – trash talk my opponent and encourage him to join me in my questionable perving (“Look, kiddo – I can see your fucking panties. When I’ve beaten you we’ll watch the replay together so you can imagine me tearing your top open“) – I know it’s wrong. It’s not bad to look at tits, but it is bad to appreciate these particular tits, which have been put there by designers with teenaged boys and quick sales in mind. The game’s been drawn so that – in between beating monsters and stabbing slick-haired sword-wielding princes – players will be imagining the characters fucking.
I don’t know what my conclusion is here – I want there to be something that will square the circle, and explain away my vague sense of self-disgust. I want an excuse for wanking to material that morally I should condemn.
But I’ve got nothing. So I suppose this is a bit of a plea – tell me what the answer is. I figured if anyone would know about masturbating to pixellated images of tits it’d be the friendly hordes of the internet.
So, people – is this OK, or is it reprehensible for a feminist? Should I carry on, safe in the knowledge that no kittens will die in the making of my tragic wanks? Or should I pull up my knickers and grow the fuck up? If you can think of a way I can fight to end female objectification while simultaneously pressing buttons to make tits jiggle, I’d be ever so grateful. I don’t have a penny for your thoughts, but I can start by offering you this picture.
On female urinals
Note this post was written in 2012 so it’s very cisnormative, I wouldn’t write it the same way today if I had another crack.
Heartbreaking though it is, I don’t have a penis. I’d love one, because there are so many things I’d like to be able to do with it: find out what wanking’s like for boys, spurt jizz out of it into someone’s mouth, and – of course – piss in great powerful jets while I’m standing up.
On Femfresh, Freshballs, Fellaswipes and scented tampons
Gentlemen, start your engines, because it’s your turn now. Pull down your trousers, hold your dicks aloft, and start wiping them with special cock-cleansing wipes.
That’s right – worry no more. Having ridiculous expectations about your body is now no longer confined to women. And in case you were wondering, there’s also a product for your balls.
Femfresh social media fail
Last week I wrote about Femfresh – that delightful ‘feminine hygiene’ product that purported to ‘woo hoo your froo froo’ with ‘PH-balanced’ wipes, cleansers and sprays. Lovely.
Since then they’ve had something of a PR nightmare, as the Femfresh facebook page has suffered an onslaught of mockery dished out by a human race which, thanks to this, I now have a lot more faith in. Ladies and gentlemen of facebook: I salute you.
If they’ve taken it down, the Wallblog has screenshots.
What’s the point of shouting?
I feel a bit sorry for Femfresh now – yes, they’re peddling a hatefully unnecessary product. But then, so are Tampax – they sell scented tampons. So are Vagisil and Carefree. And yes, so are Freshballs and Fellaswipes.
While it’s great that one of these companies has taken a bit of a battering over a product that is designed to make us feel shameful about the natural genital smells humans produce, the reporting has been a bit confused on the issue.
The lead story (on blogs like The Wall and HuffPo) has been ‘Women start a backlash because a marketing company called their fanny a ‘la-la.” And that’s not strictly the case.
Firstly, it’s not just women. Men are offended by this shit as well – and why wouldn’t they be? Men no more call it a ‘la-la’ than they’d call their dick a ‘dinkle.’ Just because the childish words used in Femfresh’s campaign are about vaginas, that doesn’t mean that you need to have a vagina to recognise how ridiculous the campaign is. There were plenty of men on their facebook page too.
Secondly, people aren’t just angry because a company referred to vaginas as ‘la-la’s. Or ‘nooni’s or ‘kitty’s, for that matter. This language is offensive and patronising, sure, but most of the comments on the page seem to be surrounding the product itself. The misery of discovering that there was yet another thing we were expected to do to our bodies to sanitize them and prettify them before we’d be allowed out in society.
The bright side of Femfresh
I am disgusted by these products – vaginal sprays, dick wipes, scented tampons – and I am disgusted that we live in a world where people are paid to persuade us that they’re necessary.
But I’m actually pretty happy that this happened. We could have watched the next few weeks go by, occasionally making angry comments about the ads plastered on phone boxes or facebook updates about being ‘proud of your pom-pom’, but we didn’t. A huge bunch of people stepped in and gave what Femfresh – in their characteristically euphemistic way – calls ‘feedback.’ They started a massive, angry, stamping kickoff, and told them that we don’t need their bullshit.
So whether you’re male or female, the next time you see an ad or a website for ‘intimate hygiene products’ that tries to persuade you your body is disgusting and unnatural, remember that you’re fine as you are. Not only do you not stink, but the people who think you do just got utterly owned on facebook.
God bless the internet.
On the smell of your vagina
Listen up, ladies, you stink! It’s awful. Did you know that you constantly exude vaginal juices? Have you ever taken the time to just… smell yourself? Sheesh, it’s gross.
We wouldn’t mind, but this repulsive stench isn’t something you confine to the comfort of your own pathetic hovel, you’re out there amongst us in society – at the bus stop, in the office, on the tube – leaking.
You disgust us.
The considerate amongst you will by now be thinking: ‘What’s the solution? How can I prevent the unsavoury odour of my womanhood from penetrating the delicate nostrils of a general public which – completely understandably – thinks I am foul?’
Well, you need to clean yourself up, for a start. Not only should you shower every morning and wash those natural cunty juices away with a special vaginal soap, but ideally you will be aware of your potential to stink during every single waking minute of your day.
Showering in the office can be impractical, but luckily for you we have a solution. A solution to that disgusting thing that your body does. A solution that means vaginal cleanliness is not just something you need to worry about when you’re in the shower – it’s something you’re free to worry about whenever you get within sniffing distance of another human being.
Congratulations, you can ‘woo-hoo your froo froo’ with delightfully scented wipes.
And by ‘woo-hoo your froo-froo’ we mean ‘wipe your cunt.’
You, yes – you. Wipe your cunt, you disgusting bitch.
Or if you – like us – think it’s horrible and can’t bear to touch it, try spraying it with something.
There’s only one thing more abhorrent than the smell of a woman’s vagina, and that’s the smell of a woman’s menstruating vagina. Just the very idea of it has me dry-heaving. So for crying out loud if you’re on your period, have the common decency to buy some scented tampons.
Please don’t buy this shit
It is completely natural to smell of something. It is natural for your vagina to leak, and it is natural for your vagina to smell like… well, a vagina. It isn’t minty-fresh, it isn’t strawberry-flavoured and it certainly isn’t a fucking flower. But every single day marketing people will try and persuade you that it should be sweet-smelling, inoffensive, and as unnoticeable as possible.
So, from the centre of my brain right down to my post-wank musky-scented cunt – I implore you not to buy this shit.
This is important – so important – because over the next ten years this will only get worse. This post was prompted by creepy adverts that appeared in London asking women to buy products that are ‘woo hoo for my froo-froo’ – a noxious spray of marketing pisswank that doesn’t even have the courage to call a vagina ‘a vagina’.
In the future we’ll be asked not just to wax as much hair off our bodies as possible, wear makeup, conform to a certain shape, and have our tits lifted when we have the temerity to age, we’ll also be expected to panic constantly about whether our cunt smells like cunt. And woe betide us if it does.
So don’t buy this shit. Tell your friends not to buy this shit. And most of all, please remind your teenaged daughters why they don’t need to buy this shit. Because over their long lifetimes their cunts will ooze gallons of discharge and girlwank. If they grow up thinking that this is a ‘hygiene problem’ that requires a ‘solution’ we condemn them to an impossible task – making sure that, for as much of the day as possible, their cunts smell like anything but cunt.
It’s miserable, guilt-laden bullshit created by people who want your money. They are not providing a ‘solution’ to your ‘hygiene problem’, they are inventing a problem and a new way for you to feel small, then offering to take your money to make the pain go away.
In case you think I’m being too harsh, in case you’re thinking ‘yes, but some women want this’ – fine. Some women might. I’m not going to dictate whether you should or shouldn’t wipe your cunt with expensively-packaged rags. But what I am saying – no, screaming wildly as I smash my head into the keyboard – is this:
Do it if you want to, but don’t ever let anyone persuade you that you need to.